


Handwriting

by hauntedjaeger (saellys)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Hermannessa, How They Met, Pre-Movie, Spitefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saellys/pseuds/hauntedjaeger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, Hermann loves models," smiles Siobhan, and it's hard to say at whose expense this joke is. Perhaps both him and Vanessa in equal measure. She maintains a neutral expression; he goes red above the collar. Finally he turns to her, clears his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handwriting

While predictive models may be devised which account for place of birth, family history, education, and a thousand other variables to determine whether and how the trajectories of two lives may someday intersect, only the first encounter can be calculated. The probability of a second meeting, for the purposes of a simulation, drops to nearly zero. But these are human beings, not comfortingly consistent atomic particles bound together through physical principles we can understand by empiric means. There is never any accounting for chance, for chaos, and much less for choice.

So, the fact that Hermann Gottlieb and Vanessa Biset meet each other once in a pub in Cambridge surprises no one. They are two humans whose lives intersect quite by chance when Vanessa's ex-girlfriend has her degree show at the Junction and asks Vanessa to wear a piece. After the show they walk a mile and a half along the river to the pub, with one of the other models. Hermann and two of his fellow doctoral candidates sit at the next table, deep in discussion about why they do what they do, the fulfillment they find that approaches the divine, the sort of thing that must be confirmed, now and then, among those who experience it.

Vanessa overhears; Vanessa has a philosophical streak and is a born contrarian, and does not need to know the specifics to discuss the higher concept. Trespasser is ten months past and Hundun four--beneath the support and solidarity for San Francisco and Manila, there runs a current of nihilism which sometimes sweeps Vanessa up. 

"We're not any closer to speaking God's language, if there is one," she says. "All we've done is overlay a grid on top of a heap, and we're always so gratified to find that it makes sense to us, it's harmonious, but the measurements have no inherent meaning, do they? We've assigned that ourselves."

The other mathematicians look mildly affronted. Hermann does not. He possesses depths of patience well beyond what is necessary to tolerate interjection from a stranger who has no idea what his work entails. "What is it you do?" says Amit.

At Vanessa's table, Lucia and Guy bristle, anticipating the inevitable cracks about inherent meaning. "I'm a model."

"Oh, Hermann loves models," smiles Siobhan, and it's hard to say at whose expense this joke is. Perhaps both him and Vanessa in equal measure. She maintains a neutral expression; he goes red above the collar. Finally he turns to her, clears his throat.

"Epinephrine," he says.

Everyone trades an uncertain glance, even the other scientists. "Sorry?" Vanessa says.

"Epinephrine is a neurotransmitter that is synthesized for the treatment of allergic reactions. My younger brother is violently allergic to hazelnuts. Your eyes, Miss..."

"Biset," she supplies.

"Your eyes, Miss Biset, are hazel. I've been trying to remember the name of the color for the past several seconds, and as soon as it occurred to me I thought of my younger brother and his allergy. That's the grid I've drawn over the heap, as you put it--there can be no meaning without context. My associations are inadequate, bordering on silly and not particularly flattering, but that is in part because the word hazel doesn't do justice to the color of your eyes." 

Vanessa stares at him. "That was fucking smooth," Lucia whispers into her pint glass.

"It may well be that the measurements have no inherent meaning," Hermann goes on, "but we're not describing phenomena to the universe, or back to God. What would be the point? We're describing it to ourselves, trying to convey a sliver of the elegance in ways we'll understand. And with each new discovery, the description gets a little closer to the truth."

Two lives intersect unremarkably, and the chance of a second meeting drops to nearly zero--or it would if these were not human beings.

Before Hermann gets up, Vanessa asks him for his number. Hermann stares at her for a long time, not accustomed to including choice as a variable. "No," he says, and wonders if that's truly disappointment on her face. "I'll give you my address. I don't like phones; I'm better on paper."

"I'm not sure I believe that," she says as he writes it on a napkin.

Two weekends later, she shows up at his door. The look on his face is worth the train ride. "My handwriting is rubbish," Vanessa tells him. "Drinks?"

**Author's Note:**

> So I heard some people in this fandom think it's unlikely that Vanessa and Hermann would have met in the first place, let alone maintained a relationship given their different careers and the circles in which they move? And yeah, this fic is me giving a great big middle finger to that whole idea.


End file.
